Blind Anger
by wherethemindgoes
Summary: When Jacob realizes that there is more to his past than his family has told him, he finds himself on a mission to find the truth.


**Chapter One: The Beginning**

The wind is mixing up the leaves down the road. My hair whips into my face, lashing my cheeks and stinging my skin. Part of me wants to tie it back, but the other part realizes it is keeping me awake. I've been walking far too long. Did I miss the house some time ago in the dark? I hope I didn't. Three days ago, three long and tiring days ago, I was across the border. It's hard to believe my body has made it this long on such low energy. It must be the anger fueling my body. Against my minds wishes, I find that I am still pressing towards this house, this thought that I could right the wrongs that my family has been victim to. All for revenge. I've walked nearly a hundred miles for the taste, the bittersweet taste of revenge. I cannot simply turn around now. I hold the pendant of my necklace my father gave me between my fingers, twisting it back and forth and keeping the memory of what happened in my mind.

Three days ago I was in the harbor of the Langley Shipyard. I was packing fish into cold boxes and stacking them against the back wall of our store. I could hear voices in the next room. They grew louder. Louder and angry. There were swear words and nasty, biting remarks. I had never heard my father speak that way. I pressed myself against the wall, partially to hear what they were saying, partially to feel some security.

"Vladmir will not take no for an answer, Gregory," The words were a hiss. "You think I can go back without you, or without your blood on my hands?"

"Then take him my blood. I will not do what he has asked." My father's voice is stern. There is no fear. I can feel my body quaking in the passing moments of silence.

In the next room there is the sound of scuffling, I cannot stay hidden any longer. Rushing passed the boxes, I run into the next room. The man is holding my father in his grasp, his hand at my father's throat with a knife. His eyes are dead black.

"No, no! Don't please, no," I beg, my voice shaking in desperation. My father mouths the words, "I'm sorry, son." To me as the man slides the knife across my father's throat with a sick smile painting his face.

There are only two moments in my life that I cannot recall. One is when I was younger. I was thirteen and my father and mother took my sister and I to a carnival in Shiriton. I remember we were watching the circus act and laughing. My sister was seven and was in love with the flying acrobats. After the show, she would only talk about their act and how she wanted to be one of them when she grew older. We laughed at it, reminding her how clumsy she was. As we walked back to the car, Trina squealed as she spotted one of the acrobats and took off running to them. I screamed for her to stop as she blindly stepped into the road and the path of oncoming car. I can't remember what happened next.

My father tells me that he didn't see me leave his side, but somehow I ended up with Trina in my arms and took the blow from the car. I ended up in a hospital bed with a broken arm, but we both were fine. I'm not sure she would have survived it.

I don't recall disarming the man. I don't recall stabbing him. I don't recall snapping his neck. But I remember holding my father as hot tears streamed down my cheeks. My shirt is stained with hot, sticky blood. My father's blood. In this moment, the only thought I have is Vladmir. A name. I will slay this man named Vladmir. I will slay him and any person that stands in my way.

I find my self fumbling for the phone I picked off of the man in my pockets as I return from my thoughts. I find it and flip it open. The light burns my eyes, but they adjust and I read a text from a man named "Antoine."

"Boss is looking for you. Better have an answer for him."

Another name. I exit the messages and return to the menu to look for the address.

"223 Milltree Lane"

I'm standing at a fork in the road. Milltree leads to the left down a hill. In the dark I cannot make out anything else. The other road Huntington leads to what sounds like a river in the distance. I close the phone and shove it back into my pocket. On the map I remember a store being down this road. If the map is not too outdated, maybe it will still be there. After walking for another mile, I find the store that was on the map. It is small and dark. I assume that it is closed, but that does not stop me from finding an open window and crawling inside. I sift through a few aisles before I find matches and a small container of lighter fluid. I'll need a few of these. I take a bag and dump the bottles of light fluid and box of matches in. Now I am ready.

From the cover of trees, I can make out the driveway and can see two men standing guard at the front door. Whoever this man is, he isn't a normal civilian.

If I'm going to do this, it has to happen now under the cover of night. I decide that before I can follow through, I need to say goodbye to my mother, in case I don't come back.

I find the phone and dial the numbers to my house. It rings for a half a second before my mother answers.

"He-hello?" Her voice is shaky. I can't tell if she is crying.

"Mom?" I say. "Are you okay?"

"Jacob. Is this you? Where are you?" She is crying. I can hear the pain in her voice. My stomach turns at the sound of her voice breaking.

"I have to take care of something, Mom. I just wanted to be able to say goodbye and that I love you and Elsie," I press the phone to my ear hard. "Mom…I'm sorry I didn't save, Dad. I should have saved him."

"This is my fault, Jacob…This is all my fault. You couldn't have done anything," She answers. In the dark all I can see is the image of my father…Blood everywhere. How could this not have been my fault? I stood there begging. Begging the man to spare my father's life when I should have killed him. I should have done something…anything.

"How could it be? I stood there and couldn't do anything. Don't worry, Mom. I'll take care of this and we won't have to worry again. I love you, take care of Elsie." With that I flip the phone shut and head towards the house. Adrenaline courses through my veins like a wildfire. I can feel my heart rattling against my chest.

There is a small brick fence surrounding the property. I take cover behind this, breathing heavily. I use a bottle of lighter fluid to make a trail a few feet long and leave the open can behind a portion of the short wall encircling the house. I light a match and watch the trail of fluid burst into flames then scurry in the other direction. I wait. A few seconds later. BOOM. The can of fluid ignites and explodes, throwing fire and smoke into the air.

The men at the front door rush towards the fire, leaving the house unattended from the outside.

This is my chance. I stick to the trees in the yard making my way to the door. It is locked. Since I am uncertain what is waiting on the other side, I try the windows on the first level. They are locked, but I won't let them stop me. I pry one open busting the lock and surely causing a ruckus that will not go unnoticed. I leap in through the window and make my way down a hall, checking my surroundings on the way. I see the first level is empty, and make my way into what looks to be a study room. I close the door behind me. By accident, I knock over a small book, which falls to the floor with a thud. In the silence of the house, I can hear footsteps in the hall. Two pairs of feet are coming towards the room I am hidden in.

"I heard something in here," a scruffy voice mutters. "Did you find anything outside?"

"Just a busted can of lighter fluid. It was probably a stupid kid prank." The other person says back.

What am I going to do? They are almost in this room. The footsteps stop at the door and the knob turns.

Damn it.

The door opens-I am hidden behind it. They walk in and close the door behind them. Now. Now is the only chance I have to take them off-guard.

I grab the one man by his neck pulling him to the wall. The other man shoots blindly, killing his own friend. At least that man's blood won't be on my conscience. I grab the dead man's gun and roll behind a desk in the corner.

"Who are you?" He yells.

"A pissed off son of a man you bastards murdered." I answer, checking the clip in the gun. Five bullets.

"Ah," he says, reloading what sounds to be a rifle. "Gregory's boy. I wondered what happened to Benny. Now, what is a fisher boy like you doing trying to avenge your father?"

"What does a thug like you want with my father?" I slide to the edge of the desk and take a quick glance of the room. His arm is hanging out behind a bookcase on the opposite side of the room.

"You really don't know, do you?" He cocks the rifle. "Your old man never told you how you were born, I suppose. Never wondered what that pe…" I never gave him a chance to finish that sentence before firing at the part of his arm I could see. The man let out a scream and confirmed that I hadn't missed. I cross the room and fire a final shot at the man, ending his life. There is no doubt that the entire house is now on alert. I grab the rifle and pistol the man was carrying, stuffing the ammo from the gun I used into my pocket and checking the other. 6 bullets in the pistol. One shot with the rifle.

I open the door slowly, there is no one in the hallway. I know there is at least one more guard, the man's partner from outside. He and Vladmir are the only people that I am aware are left in this house. I make my way up the steps and into a bedroom-which is empty. I take to the next room. Empty. There are two rooms left on this floor. One is a bathroom and there is no one in there. There is one last room-the door is locked. I kick it in and find a woman. She is bound on the floor. Her mouth taped. Now, I am even more angry. Every bit of my body is hot with a physical form of anger. I don't know who she is, but her green eyes tell me all I need to know. Pain. I've seen this look before.

There are footsteps behind me.

And again I lose myself to anger. I don't remember any of the next moments in which I kill the man.

I come to with the girl in front of me, terrified. She screams as I reach to unbind her. I back away looking behind me and find that the man is decapitated. Grossed out, but in a sick way relieved, I can understand why she is afraid.

"Is there anyone else here?" I ask. She shakes her head. "I'm not here to harm you. I'm here to find Vladmir." Her blonde hair is covering her face; wet with sweat and tears, it sticks to her cheeks. Her arms are cut and bloodied from the binding. She must have been here for a few days.

"Can I free you?" I ask, taking small steps toward her. She nods and allows me to free the rope from her trembling hands and peel away the tape from her face. "Can you walk?" I help her up, but she collapses, falling into me. With no other choice, I lift her into my arms and take her down the hall to the bathroom. The faucet is rusty and the knobs squeak as I turn them. The water pours in spurts and does not get hot. I help her rinse her hands and rip a piece of my shirt off to use as a rag for her face. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are colored with scrapes and bruises. In between her hiccuping breaths, I can hear her whispering thank you. I do not question her, I only want to get her to safety and let her rest before I ask anything. I lift her again and we decide to leave.

In the next hour, I've walked miles with Kaellie shivering on my back. She's in shock and mutters a combination of apologies and thank you's every so often. I keep telling her she is okay now, but I don't think she is listening. The sun is casting red rays of light over the horizon as it begins to rise.

"Are we close to town?" Kaellie asks, seemingly coherent.

"We're almost there," I answer, I can see the town in the distance. It's less than a mile away now. She lays her head on my shoulder and drifts to sleep in the next few minutes. My back is aching, but I push that thought to the back of my mind.

Once we reach the town, I find a small inn and ask for a room. I receive numerous looks from sleepy-eyed guests. The lady at the desk escorts us to one of their smallest rooms and explains that the breakfast will be ready in a few moments. I close the door behind me and lay Kaellie down and stretch my aching muscles before collapsing on the bed.

I sleep through the day waking up late in the afternoon. Kaellie is sitting in a chair across the room staring at me, her knees pulled up to her chest.

"Good morning…Or afternoon," she mutters.

"Morning." I stretch out and rub my eyes, sitting up on the bed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep so long."

"Well, after everything…" She stops short and I know exactly what she means.

"How about some food?" I ask switching the subject, I can see the relief in her eyes. She nods.

We spend the rest of the evening getting food, clothes, and resting. I help Kaellie dress her wounds and we find medicine to help with the scrapes and bruises. Her wrists are probably the worst of the injuries. The skin is completely gone and had it been left longer without attention, I think they may have become infected. She winces when alcohol is applied, gritting her teeth.

"Sorry," I whisper.

"It's okay." She pulls her wrist away by accident then pushes it back to me to finish dressing. I hear a sigh escape her lips and her pain stricken eyes meet mine.

There will be hell to pay for the man who did this.


End file.
